Age of Dragons: From The Wind
by Triest Morgan
Summary: Chapter Two is up to review. Please REVIEW!
1. Prologue

Age of Dragons: From the Wind  
  
Prologue  
  
The world as we know it is not that different than most I am sure. In our libraries we have books concerning many worlds, all similar to one extent or another. Our lovely world is nothing special in contrast. We have separate races, separate communities, and most importantly separate desires.  
  
Most know that the Gods watch over us, either for good intentions or bad. The Gods of good are as follows; Theodin, the God of Creation, Teloux, the God of Hope, Pandoras, the God of Inspiration, and Palidor, the Father of the Gods. The evil Gods are also well known and are as follows; Horuul, the God of Destruction, Heloux, the God of Despair, Fandoras, the God of Disease, and the God of War, Selifour.  
  
The Gods in our world are not complacent. They are apart of our everyday life in one way or another. Temples have been erected in honor of all the gods and each have servants that would die for their beliefs. While the beliefs vary, the messages are all the same. The hierarchy of the temple faithful requires too many pages for this chronicle to adequately describe, so another such title shall be created at a later date. Suffice it to say that the gods of good work together in many ways and are in overall harmony with each other. While the gods of evil sometimes collaborate only when it is beneficial to themselves to do so. The Gods are always in a power struggle for control of the world, and sometimes the wars waged are not pretty and the deeds even less so.  
  
There are clerics from all the religious orders, each gaining special privileges and abilities based upon their level in the temple. Theodinites, those following the God of Creation, are well known as grand illusionists, and wise beyond measure. They also have powers dealing with the elements and commune with nature. Telousians, have enormous healing and regenerative powers. Some of their members are said to live incredibly long lives. Pandorasians have gifted the world with its best leaders and have placed many rulers on thrones throughout the course of history. They also are the only ones able to bless a man into knighthood. Palidorites were once rumored to be the most powerful among the orders, but along the course of time they have lost their abilities, and the followers speak of a curse laid upon their house which can only be lifted by the chosen one. Horuulians are gifted with the ability of telekinetics and knowledge of demolition. Helousians can read the future and some even possess telepathy. Fandorasians have the horrible curse of disease. Some say they are all carriers and the only thing keeping them alive is their faith. It is fabled that one such member sparked a plague that smote the whole of a continent long ago. The there is the Selifourites, the most rare and despised religion known. They are, as far as I can tell, no longer in existence. But rumor has it that they once ruled the world with an iron fist. Their very words depicted as law. If this is true I have no actual record of anything like this ever happening in our history, but if it did I am glad they are no longer around to stir up mischief.  
  
The holy orders are not the only ones who possess power though. Those willing to dedicate their life to the study of the finer arts of magic can also change the course of history. The Mage's Guild is known world wide and widely respected. True, some mages do not belong to the guild, but those renegades are sought out by the Guild Protectorate and let me tell you, they never cast a spell again. The guild is currently under the direction of a curious man by the name of Gaul Fel. A human, Gaul Fel earned his position of high esteem after he single-handedly stopped a fleet of dragons from ravaging the countryside. How he accomplished this is shrouded in mystery, but it is said he used an ancient spell, one that should have killed him. He survived but since then has secreted himself into the great tower that the order calls its headquarters. He has not been seen since.  
  
This brings me to another odd occurrence. I only mention it because magic was involved. About two-hundred years ago, a storm stirred up the size of which had never been seen before. When it calmed a strange thing happened. A whole town, well half a town, appeared. The town was inhabited by a new race of beings, a race calling themselves Kender. They had no idea how they got here, but here they were. They claimed to be from a world called Krynn, a world which I have only recently gained further information on which I will be collecting into a separate book later on. I do know however, that somehow our two worlds are linked together in some strange inexplicable way. Further study of this is definitely called for.  
  
So Kender are amongst the many races in this great world. Also, we have Minotaurs. They inhabit the northern sphere mostly and do not usually travel to our region of the world, save a few. They are mostly a barbaric people of warriors with fierce ancient traditions. Humans of course are all around, and yours truly is proud to count himself as one of them. Then there are the elves. While we humans are at war with the elves now, I think I should still remain objective and depict them in a decent light. While, like I said, we are currently at war with the elves they area good people. Just one thing lead to another and war broke out, it happens all the time. We are blessed with two races of elves though. The Trilinesti, which stick to the old ancient elven traditions, and the Polinesti who broke away from the traditions long ago and live free from their brothers. Another great race are the dwarves. We are blessed to have three of their kind here. They are technically all the same but don't try telling them that. They are separated by region as well as clan. Clan Wolf lives from the land and in the hill and are friends with Clan Hawk, who live in the high mountains. Then there is Clan Dragon, who does not interact with any race, and travel in their lands is forbidden on pain of death. They live isolated in the swamps and worship the god of war himself.  
  
Other races that we have are lesser beings such as goblins and ogres, who while wholly evil to the bone; they do not possess much intelligence so are content to fight amongst themselves. Woe to us all if they ever become organized, what a force that would be. But who would be that bold to try and tame the beasts?  
  
We are also lucky enough to have many guilds. In each major city you can find almost all of them, though some are secretive and hard to find. Why we have mercenary guilds, fighters' guilds, assassins' guilds, and the most notable of all, as well as the most powerful is the Thieves Guild. They control most things behind the scenes. A man known only as Essex is the head of that guild, and it is wise to never cross him. It is said he deals with his enemies in only the worst ways. He however loves attention and always parades himself through the cities as if he was the ruler. He is rumored to secretly control the governments of most major cities here and abroad. How much is truth and how much is rumor is still to be ascertained though.  
  
Well I think that should pretty much give you a decent setup on how things are here. I am sure you knew most of this, but it is always best to assume the least lest you forget the whole. Or something like that. But you should be up to speed enough to read the chronicles I am about to unfold. It has a few twists and turns, and an unexpected ending but don't get discouraged. It may not end how you think but who's to say what's for the best? I now give you the aforementioned chronicles.  
  
- Aaron Wagner, Historian  
  
Chapter One 


	2. Chapter One A Band of Vagabonds

Chapter One - A Band of Vagabonds  
  
Akdor, the most isolated continent in all of Caelereth, not because of its location as much as its inhabitants. Akdor is a continent patrolled by the Legion of Light, because the continent is a prison continent. All those in the world who have been deemed unfit to live within society have been deposited onto this miserable soil. The inhabitants, over the years, developed a kill or be killed way of life here. No real villages fill the region, but many encampments dot the horizon.  
  
Bands of vagabonds wage a constant war against each other, all fighting for dominance. Ogres, Minotaurs, Elves, Dwarves, and every other imaginable race live in this place, all struggling for survival, and all fighting each other to the death. Most of the races have banned together out of habit, but a few misfits have deemed themselves loners. They do not normally last long here.  
  
The Legion of Light guard the borders loosely, but have outposts on all the major surrounding islands, and on the coasts of Sarvonia, the main continent, to prevent escape. Water dragons also patrol the sea to prevent aquatic escape. The only means of escape is to the west, where no guard will travel, for fear of a mythical beast that is said to inhabit that area of sea. None who have journeyed out from that direction have lived to tell the tale.  
  
The Mage's Guild gathered centuries before and covered the continent in a magic dampening blanket, which prevents all, even the most powerful mages, to use any magic at all while there. This is why the Guild sends its captured renegades to Akdor for easy disposal. Most mages die soon without magical defenses. Those who do survive, do so by forming alliances quickly or going into hiding, rarely emerging.  
  
Over the years Akdor has developed a reputation for its general foulness as well as its depressingly unsuccessful escape attempts. Many try to escape and are either killed on site by the Legion of Light, eaten by the Sea Dragons, or simply returned Akdor in an unfriendly region. Akdor is the epitome of despair and hope does not spring eternal when one is dealing with it. It's very name strikes fear into children, and is often used by parents to get young ones to do chores. But grown men too fear this place, the Legion of Light refuse to even build an outpost on its shores. Preferring to let the inmates attempt escape and fail miserably, instead.  
  
The new arrivals are sent in via Dragons and never in the same place twice. Each newcomer is given a knife and flint. That is all. Everything else is provided by the land. Since this has been the way of things for centuries, the few children born in this place are rarely around long to wish they hadn't been born. But those who survive in this place are something to be reckoned with. The love from their parents and peers replaced with fear. The need for acceptance replaced with loathing for others. Isolation has become common place, and hope is not in their vocabulary, for they know nothing else, nothing better. They do not know what the world holds for them. They are being punished for the sins of the father. The burden has become heavy, and almost impossible to bear. Murder is done before breakfast, theft before lunch, and rape before dinner. Nothing is sacred, and the future is often thought upon with scorn. Many such have gone insane from just being alive. But most have become the most ruthless on Akdor, more than the whole of the father and nearly the community. They have committed more sins than most sent here. They rule bands with iron fists, and wage blood wars with each other that have lasted decades. Akdor is their home; it is all they have known. In their world they are kings of no kingdoms and rulers of nothing and all.  
  
Amongst them will rise a true ruler, a true king. A man who unites Akdor into a force that will bring the world to its knees, and make even the Gods shudder. A man birthed from agony and despair and raised in pain and torture. No mercy does this man know. No pain can this man feel. Only hatred and anger, unleashed in vengeance. May the Gods protect and shelter their children this night, because no one else will.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
The sun glared off the silver goblet as the mage rolled the contents around with a bored expression on his pale face. His grey robes lay wrapped around him, as if conforming to his body. Once he had been powerful. Once he had lead armies and won battles for his God. In his pride he found his downfall. He had dared to plot against his God and in doing so was stripped of his protection. His armies turned against him and would have killed him had he not used the last of his power to send him where they could not harm him. Unfortunately that place had been Akdor. His powers completely useless here he was forced to rely on the few magical artifacts that he still possessed to get him by. One of those artifacts, a bracelet of longevity, granted him an impossibly long life for a human.  
  
He had tried to get out of Akdor for years, to no avail. Finally he had decided to wait it out. To build himself a tower and wait till someone came to him, someone who had the potential to help him out of this foul place. That time had come a few years earlier when a young half-ogre had come to his tower looking to take it for his own. The half-ogre had nearly been killed then and there but the mage had recognized something in him, that ability to lead others that is so rare. So he had saved the thing and began teaching him, training him, until he was ready to take his plans into action.  
  
The mage had given the half-ogre a powerful amulet that caused it's wearer to possess amazing powers of persuasion. It gave the wearer to control any thing evil, and could convince even good things to at least listen to what he had to say. So with this amulet he sent the half-ogre out into Akdor, and everywhere he went he recruited. He recruited every race, and every being on the whole continent without any complaints. With his General at the lead, the mage had then trained his new found army into a well disciplined machine, an army the might of which may never be rivaled again.  
  
But now he had to wait. He sipped from the goblet and then hurled the thing into the wall. "ANDREAS!" he yelled.  
  
The half-ogre came into the room, showing no regard for the goblet on the ground, and smiled at the mage. He glanced at the bracelet on the mages wrist for a moment, looked to have thought of something, and then stopped having thought better of it. "You know my time is precious mage, what do you need?" he said, drawing out the word mage as if the word itself were poisonous.  
  
"Your time is only precious, Victor, because I allow it to be precious, do not forget that. I have called you for a reason though. After nearly a century on this cursed rock, it is time for us to leave."  
  
Victor started in disbelief. "Finally, you have decided we are ready. The troops grow impatient, it is good you decide to move now or else I fear I would have no one to lead in a month."  
  
The mage cast Victor a glare. "Those fools would stay here till the end of the world if you told them to and you know it to be true. The Amulet of D'sildren will not fail unless its wearer does. You have them for life my dear Victor. Till death do you all part. That is the only reason I do not rip out your insolent tongue. It would be time consuming training another to lead the flock. But my patience does have limits Victor, do not grow too bold."  
  
Victor Andreas's defiance slowly slid away. "Sorry Valitor. I am used to being in charge, not the other way around. I spend too much time with the men. I am glad you are ready to leave; I will alert Firethorn and Vallyn. They will be anxious to be on their way."  
  
Valitor let a smile slowly creep across his face, though once handsome, the years of unnatural life had definitely distorted some of his features, making him seem very evil. "Firethorn will lead the first wave. I want him to sweep through the east into Cael'heroth. Those Legion of Light ninnies will not know what hit them. They have never dealt with more than two or three escapees at a time. I wonder if the commanders will even get a chance to sound the alarm. I want Vallyn sweeping south. Nybelmar will be taken with ease and will make sure Vallyn is up to the task."  
  
Victor was nodding throughout the instructions and when Valitor was finished he stopped. "And what of me lord? Am I not to partake in the conquests?"  
  
The smile on the mages face flared into a snarl. "You? I have not forgotten you Victor Andreas. No your part is the most important. Once I am out from underneath this magic dampening field which prevents all magic but magical artifacts to work, I will personally accompany you and your main force on a special mission. You see, years ago I was betrayed by my God. I wish to return the favor to him. I will have regained all my powers on the outside. There you will see me in my most glorious state. We travel to the large island of Denilou southeast of Sarvonia. There is the great Temple of Horuul, the God of Destruction. I wish to level the Temple and enslave his followers."  
  
"I have trained this whole time just for you to wipe out some priests? This is unacceptable! I demand argh!" Victor's head snapped back suddenly and his hands went to his temples. Valitor's fist was clenched around a beaded necklace; his eyes were wild with anger.  
  
"YOU FORGET YOURSELF AGAIN! I will not have you acting this way. You will do as I say or I will end you right here and now." He relaxed his grip on the necklace and Victor feel to his knees, fighting off tears of pain. Valitor slowly walked over to him and began smoothing back Victor's hair. "There, there my poor Victor. I do this for your own good. You must learn humility and obedience. Without it you will be of no use to me. Perhaps I was too quick to speak before. We will head to Denilou, but only through the heart of Sarvonia. Once Firethorn's force has taken Cael'heroth, we will pave a path of destruction south through the continent, leaving nothing living that does not serve us. You will see much action Victor that I promise."  
  
With that the mage helped Victor to his feet and sent him to prepare the men for the journey ahead. It would take a few days to get to the shores, then another to get all the ships to their destinations. There was still much to do before Valitor could rest, but he did feel much better knowing the power would soon be his again. 


	3. Chapter Two The Test

Chapter Two - The Test  
  
Cael'heroth, home of the beloved Legion of Light for as long as anyone can recall. Cael'heroth is a port town in the northwestern corner of the continent of Sarvonia. It is called the City of Enduring Stars, because of its intricate system of street lamps and night lights that decorate every corner of the city making it light up at night like a second sky. The lights can be seen for miles around and their light has never been extinguished.  
  
The city itself is elaborately designed and as ancient as any other city on Caelereth. The city walls are twenty feet high and are constructed of stone so pure that it shines unnaturally year round without much need of cleaning. The walls were constructed a hundred years before by Dwarven hands after the Genocide War had threatened to come to this fair city. The Genocide War raged on for over a generation and destroyed many a city, but its foulness never once touched the walls of Cael'heroth. Most of the inner city was also constructed by Dwarves. The first Emperor of Cael'heroth set a tradition of only trusting Dwarven craftsmanship and stubbornly refused offers from any other source. This is why, some say, the city has endured throughout the centuries.  
  
Of Dwarven make and design, the port city prospered and became a hub for trade from all of Sarvonia, since the port city was the middle ground for Cyhalloi and Nybelmar, the two closest continents. Merchants and dignitaries came from miles away to trade in the fabled Cael'heroth market and break bread with the Emperor and his nobles.  
  
The Emperor himself was the direct descendant of the first Emperor and the line had remained in power throughout countless struggles. The Emperor was the supreme commander of the Legion of Light, which was based in the city but spread through out the hemisphere. The Legion's sphere of influence was limited only by the vast oceans that cut the hemisphere off from what ever lay beyond. The Legion of Light protects the city vigilantly and is yet another reason why the city has never been lain siege to.  
  
The city was only vulnerable from attack from the portside, which remained un-walled and open to the sea. While allowing for a magnificent view, the portside was not very defendable. The Legion's presence alone was thought enough to deter any attempt at attack. This theory had held.  
  
Within the city are the bases of operations for numerous guilds. The guilds are the true source of power in Sarvonia and the heads of each guild each play dangerous power games with each other for control. Each city has branches of each guild for the most part. If you are not in a guild you are a commoner and as the saying goes, 'Commoners yearn for nothing so receive nothing. A Guildsman yearns for more, so gets everything.'  
  
The three most powerful guilds are the Mages Guild; headed by Gaul Fel, the Thieves Guild; headed by a mysterious man named Essex, and the Assassins Guild; who is lead mysteriously by an anonymous individual. Dozens of other guilds exist as well; the Mercenary Guild, Blacksmith Guild, Bards Guild, Illuminators Guild, Knights Guild (who refer to themselves not as a guild but a faction), Historians Guild, Merchants Guild and many more. The power of each guild varies, based mostly on ambition and wealth of the individual guild. Nobleman, and the wealthy or the most heavily recruited by the guilds, but most memberships are earned on deed and positions are limited. Since membership is limited it is very dangerous to belong to a guild. The easiest way to find an opening is to literally create one by disposing of a current member. The assassins guild actually only admits you if you have killed your predecessor. Great respect and power comes with being in a guild even if you are of the lowest rank you are better than the common man. The guilds motto is 'Guild, god, then family' and they expect you to live by it.  
  
The Emperor is careful to keep the heads of the guilds happy and not at war with each other more for his own peace of mind than theirs. The current Emperor, Tyberius IV, also makes sure that the city is constantly free of vermin. He personally has sent a quarter of Akdor's population to the dismal island. This zero tolerance makes it more difficult for the Thieves and Assassins Guilds to operate. They are only tolerated to maintain the balance within the city. Removing one guild would upset the balance of power in the city so much Tyberius shuddered often about the entire notion. So the adage of keep your friends close and your enemies closer became common practice.  
  
The city has seen its share of heroes and also its share of villains. It has created some of the noblest as well as the vilest men to ever walk the face of Caelereth. Currently a man, not quite either resides here. He does not know it yet, but his recent acceptance into the Mercenaries Guild will change his life forever. Triest Morgan was raised an orphan and had remained one until a couple, who could barely lay claim to the right of being noble, had taken him in since the wife could not bare children of her own. The couple had not been overly gracious but not ghastly either. They had raised Triest from a boy into a young man, given him a surname, and then sent him to make his own way.  
  
The Mercenaries Guild had been his adopted father's idea. He thought since he himself had not been a great fighter, he should at least make his "son" one. After a small sum of money exchanged hands the Guild admitted Triest into its fold as the lowest ranking guildsman. Triest was honored of course, as was to be expected of him, but not having been given the choice of his future did grate on him a little. However he didn't want to let down the only parents he had known so he graciously went along with the whole thing.  
  
That was a year ago. Triest had spent most of his days training with the guild elders. The elders, being too old to do any serious mercenary work themselves, stayed on in an instructional capacity for the newcomers. Triest liked his time training and as fairly adept at it. Not the best but definitely not the worst. He learned about mathematics during this time as well, since knowing how much to charge and how much not to charge a person was essential to his job. This being the end of his first year in the guild he was due a promotion. This promotion would make him no longer a low ranking apprentice guildsman but a full fledged guildsman, with all its privileges.  
  
This would also bring on the test. This part of his training was the most important. Each first year apprentice must undergo a test, set up by the head of the guild himself, before he or she can move onto the second year. Failure meant redoing the first year and a second failing would mean expulsion. Rarely did anyone pass the first time; those who had quickly became the most famous of the guild and demanded the highest fees. Marketing yourself was half the skill of being a mercenary after all.  
  
No one knew what the test was; it was rumored to be different for each participant. The elders refused to even speak of their individual tests and most times made the questioner do extra lessons. This day was to be the day Triest received his test. The overall nervousness of the situation was heightened more by the arrival of a mysterious woman the following day. She had appeared in the guilds main courtyard out of thin air. The grey robes she wore tight against her skin automatically signaled her to be a mage. The head of the guild himself had rushed out to welcome her and then the two had secluded themselves in his chambers since. Not knowing why the woman had come, or what her arrival pertained didn't help Triest's nervousness any more.  
  
Nevertheless he still made his way to the guilds ceremonial chambers at high noon, as he had been instructed to. Once he reach the heavy steel doors he stopped slowly, took a deep breath, and then entered into the unknown.  
  
The room he entered was dimly lit by candles throughout the circular chamber. Plaques adorned the walls, written on them the exploits of individual members. In the center of the room sat the head of the guild, a stout man who had long ago given up fieldwork, opting instead for the comforts of leadership. Beside him stood the mysterious woman, still shrouded in her robes, and now eyeing Triest carefully. Her scrutiny made him feel most uncomfortable and he quickly turned his gaze back to the head of his guild.  
  
"Triest Morgan, you come before me today as an apprentice, asking for the chance to go forth into the world and stake your claim. The only thing preventing this from happening right this minute is one thing. You must be tested, as all who come through those doors have been and always will be. If you are to survive your test you must keep your wits about you and your sword at the ready. Triest Morgan, are you ready to receive your test?" The head of the Mercenaries Guild stood up after saying speaking and the dimly lit room flared into full light. The effect was almost overwhelming.  
  
Triest took a step back before he realized what he had done. He told himself to not be a coward, and then stood up straight. "I am ready sir, what is your test for me?"  
  
"Your test will be a quest Triest. You are to accompany Miss Aurilia," at the mention of her name she stepped forward and moved back her hood, allowing a better glimpse at her face. She was not gorgeous but she did have a sort of beauty about her. "You are to accompany her to Yamalquain."  
  
"Yamalquain? That is crazy! It is half way across the world! You can't be serious."  
  
Aurilia stepped forward at this point, her curly black locks of hair swirling around her face, "He is absolutely serious. You alone have been chosen to undertake this quest. We are on a mission to save the world so I would make sure you were fully committed before you agree if I were you. I don't need you giving up halfway through."  
  
Hundreds of thoughts ran through Triest's head before it occurred to him he really did not have a choice in the matter. Either he agreed to take this test, or he wastes another year of his life training for his next test. "Ok Miss Aurilia. I accept this test laid forth by my guild. I will accompany you on this quest, but I must warn you. I am not the best for this certain task. If what you say is true and the fate of the world hangs in the balance, you may want to choose one who is more skilled in the sword than me."  
  
Aurilia smiled warmly, the smile had an instant calming effect on Triest, "I have seen all your peers and, believe me; you have something the others lack. You will prove to be most adequate for this certain task. I think you don't have enough faith in yourself. While you may not be as gifted in art of fighting as the others, you have excelled in strategy and mathematics. These skills are what are needed on this quest. Now, go ready yourself, we leave within the hour. Our journey will be long and I fear we may see more troubles by delaying than not."  
  
Triest dipped his head in a slight bow and quickly turned and left the chamber. Something was wrong with all of this. He had always thought the test was more a theoretical thing than an actual physical one. And why hadn't the head of the guild spoken more? He had let the woman speak for him as if once he had given the task to Triest, he was no longer important. All these questions continued to run through Triest's head as he entered his room and began to pack. He only knew that, while he did not understand this test, he would not fail. He would see to it that Aurilia would make it to Yamalquain even if it took the rest of his days to get her there.  
  
He quickly packed his things and then headed out, quickly grabbing his sword along the way. He walked slowly to the stables, still unable to understand the curious turn of events. Yamalquain was not known for being very friendly to anyone in particular, let alone humans. You see, Yamalquain was home to one of the fiercest races on the face of Caelereth, a race that prided itself on physical prowess, unbridled wrath, and gladiatorial skills.  
Yamalquain had been home to these bloodthirsty savages for as long as anyone can remember and time had not faded their bloodthirstiness. If anything it had made it stronger and more uncontrolled. Yamalquain was home to the race called Minotaur you see. And as hard as Triest think about he still could not understand why Aurilia thought he could protect her from an entire race of savages. 


End file.
